


Is that what it was like?

by The_gayest_little_angel



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Implied Johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_gayest_little_angel/pseuds/The_gayest_little_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is shot on a case and Sherlock fears for his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is that what it was like?

He shouldn't have taken the case. He shouldn't have let John go off on his own. He shouldn't have let the killer out of his sight.

He should have run faster. He should have called Lestrade. He should have been prepared.

He did hear the gun shots.

Three shots. Three shots and blood everywhere. Three shots and an unconcious Watson.

"JOHN?" He called, shaking as he turned the corner. Just in time to see the doctor crumple to the ground and the attacker climb up the fire escape.

He pulled out his gun and fired at the murderer. Once in the head, once in the heart, and one more as he fell just for good measure.

"John! I'm here! Stay with me!" He pleaded as he kneeled down and tried to stem the blood flow.

"Help, please. My friend's been shot." He said to the phone, his voice cracking.

He gave them the adress with instruction to hold tight until the ambulance got there.

"Stay with me, John. Please. I need you." He begged as he checked his pulse.

There still was one, but it was nearly impercievebly faint. Sherlock feared that John had died. The sirens of the ambulance echoed through the streets.

The next day John awoke in a hospital bed.

"Sherlock" He groaned softly.

His friend, who had been sitting in a chair next to the bed and bouncing his feet impatiently, reached his arm out over the bed and grabbed his hand.

He turned his head to see the detective's red and blotchy face with a relieved expression.

"You've been crying." John observed aloud.

"And you've been shot." Sherlock retorted.

"I thought you had died." Sherlock told him.

There were a few minutes of silence when neither could think of anything to say and John didn't have the energy to converse.

When Sherlock thought that John was asleep he asked a question: "Is that what it was like?"


End file.
